For the Longest Time
by Merlynnod
Summary: This is my first TS story, so please read and review! This story is set in the middle of WW2, and Baloo has been sent off to fight at the front. There is also some flashback to his childhood. I rated it PG, b/c my description of an army hospital is detai


For the Longest Time  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer and Thanks  
I would like to thank everyone who proofread and helped me to edit this story, especially Gidget. She was incredibly helpful in the editing process, and even more so in characterization. So, thanks to Gidget, Elissa, Pandora, Daisy, and Becky for all your help and advice.   
  
I do not own Baloo, Becky, Molly, Kit, Wildcat, Clementine, Col. Hathi, Bagheera, or Louie. They were created by, and are property of Disney/Buena Vista. They were used here without permission, and not for profit of any kind.   
I do own, Dorothy and Grady Von Bruinwald, and the other minor characters which appear in this story. If you would like to pay me for them, feel free! (I know, fat chance, but hey, it's worth a shot!)  
"The Owl and the Pussy Cat" is a poem by Edward Lear.   
"For the Longest Time" is a song by Billy Joel. I stole his title. :)  
  
  
  
  
"Uhhhhhhh. . . . . . . . No, no, please don't do that . . . . . . . . Mayday, mayday, we're goin down! .. . . . . . . . .Kit, where are you Lil' Britches? Have you seen Molly around here anywheres? . . . . . . . . . nooooooo"  
  
"I don't think he's looking any better today. You had better go ahead and notify the family, I'm sure the address is in his file, the one marked Von Bruinwald."  
  
"Right Doctor."  
  
***  
  
Slowly the telegram feel to the floor, away from the now limp grasp of Rebecca Von Bruinwald. Tears immediately began to stream down her face. She was too shocked to make a sound, and her mind was awhirl with questions and images of terrible sights.   
  
"Yes, Mr. McGee, I understand Sir, Yes, I know. I'm sorry we were late with your shipment, yes, the next time you use us it will only be half price. I'm sorry Sir, you see my main pilot is in Thembria right now, yes, he was drafted, I know Sir. The new pilot is fifty-seven, and he sometimes loses his course. It is the best we can do right now. Everyone is fighting. I know Sir, I understand, yes of course you still have a business to run. I'm extremely sorry, it won't happen again, yes, I UNDERSTAND SIR. Okay, I apologize again for the inconvenience. Yes, these are trying times. Alright, bye."  
  
With that, Rebecca hung up the phone, and almost unconsciously began clenching her hands together.   
  
'What I wouldn't give to tell him what for, just once . . . ' Rebecca mumbled to herself as she sat at her desk at higher for higher.   
  
Slowly her thoughts began to wander to other ports of call. The pathways were well worn, and without even thinking about it, Rebecca could almost hear the sound of his voice, and his tread outside on the wharf.  
'It just doesn't feel right to be here without him. Without his homely presence, this place just seems so lonely, so cold. I would love to hear one of his lame excuses again. Even the way he smelled, that warm scent of cotton, leather and old plane. It was a part of him, no matter what he wore. I know Kit won't go up there to their old bedroom anymore. He never says anything, but the past year has been extremely hard for him too. Just a few more months though, and then he'll be home. Just a little longer.' At that moment, Rebecca was awakened from her reverie by the sound of footsteps on the wharf outside, quickly followed by a sharp knock at the front door.   
  
'Maybe it's a customer. Too bad Henry's not here, I could introduce them to our pilot. The buyers always seemed to like meeting him. It's just when he gets lost that they begin to hate him. Poor guy, I know he does his best. I just wish Kit would be willing to navigate for him. I understand why he won't, but it would help so much'  
  
Once again Rebecca was broken from her chain of thought by another insistant knock on the door.   
  
'I've gotta quit doing that, if I don't start paying attention I'm going to go bankrupt' this thought ran through Rebecca's head as she simultaneously called "I'm coming, be right there!" and walked over to the door.   
  
Upon answering the door, Rebecca came face to chest with a tall graying panther. He was dressed in the dark green suit of an army officer, and he was bearing an innocent looking white envelope.   
  
All at once, Rebecca's mind went numb. She could feel a vague worry at the back of her mind, but she couldn't think why. Her mind was numb, and her thought processes seemed incredibly slow, as if she was just waking up from an endlessly deep slumber.   
  
"I'm sorry ma'am. Your husband was an officer and a gentleman. I was one of his bunkmates during training, under Col. Hathi. I'm very sorry for you." With those words, the panther's eyes filled with pity, knowing all too well the blank look that had crept into the small brown bear's face.   
  
"Is there anyone I can call to be with you? Or would you like me to stay ma'am?" the officer kindly asked the still numb Rebecca.   
  
"Oh, uh, no Sir, I'll be fine, thank-you though." With those words, Rebecca took the envelope from the panther's open hand, closed the door, and began to open the envelope. As soon as she began to rip the top off of the stiff white paper, she realized with a sudden shock what must be in this envelope. She now knew what that vague feeling of fear was about. With trembling hands, and almost blinded by a sudden welling of tears, she withdrew the letter inside, and began to read it aloud.   
  
"Dear Mrs. Baloo Von Bruinwald, we regret to inform you-" before Rebecca could read any further she was compelled to stop, convinced that if she read any further that she would explode, already there were bright, flashing lights behind her eyes, and her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure that anyone in the near vicinity must surely know of her plight. Slowly, over the next several minutes, Rebecca began to calm down, the light-headedness began to fade, and she could breathe again. Against her will, she began to read again, believing that she knew the contents of the letter, but hoping against everything she held dear, that she was wrong.   
  
Without realizing it, Rebecca's hand lost its grip on the letter, and the small piece of folded paper fell gradually to the floor. Slowly, Rebecca made her way over to the Baloo's chair, the same ratty old chair that had been a part of Higher for Hire for as long as she could remember. She sank down into its soft cushions, cushions which no matter how many times she had fluffed and turned would always maintain the imprint of her husband. Rebecca settled back, still in too much shock to fully realize what she was doing. As she sat down, she tucked her legs up to her chest, put her face in her paws, and sobbed.   
  
Desperately, Rebecca wanted someone to come and hold her, hold her tight, set her on their lap and tell her everything was going to be all right again. Someone big, soft and warm, who would gently stroke her hair and let her cry herself to sleep in the fabric of his shirt. Unfortunately, there was no one at Higher for Hire that early in the day, Molly and Kit were still at school, and Wildcat had left several months ago to help with an air chapter in New fedora as a volunteer mechanic. They had refused to draft him, based on his child-like mental acuity, but gladly accepted his services as a mechanic. Henry, Rebecca's temporary pilot, was also not around, having been sent off on an overnight cargo run and having left that morning.   
  
Because of these occurrences, no one came to comfort Rebecca in her grief over what had already happened, and what could still be. She cried herself to sleep in the old armchair, into a deep and dream filled sleep.  
  
"Oh Baloo, don't be silly, you look wonderful! That cravat is perfect for that tuxedo. Come on Kit, tell him, please?"  
  
"Uh, yeah Papa Bear,, Miz Cunningham's right, you do look better with a cravat on. The bow tie looked sorta funny," Kit replied, eager to humor Rebecca, especially since he and Baloo were about to be living with her.   
  
"Oh Alright, Lil' Britches, if you say so, I'll believe it. I still don't see why I have to wear this silly scarf thingy though. You never made me wear one before Beckers" Baloo complained, ruffling Kit's hair affectionately with one hand, and dubiously fingering the offending cravat with the other.   
  
"Come on Baloo, this is our wedding, not some party! I want you and Kit to look your very best. Come on, we've still got to find a dress for Molly.  
Kit, honey, you don't have to call me Ms. Cunningham anymore either. You know that the adoption is going to be final day after tomorrow, it really is okay if you want to call me Rebecca," she said as she looked down at Kit with a smile. Noticing, not for the first time, how he brightened every time either she or Baloo mentioned the adoption.   
'He's finally going to have a real family. I hope we can be everything he wants us to be. He is such a wonderful kid. He deserves so much.'  
  
Kit just smiled back at Rebecca and said "I'll try, Mi-er, Rebecca."  
  
"Hey, guys, has anybody seen Cupcake lately? I was just lookin around, and I don' t see her anywheres," Baloo said, anxiously scanning the store.   
  
"I could have sworn she was right here just a second ago! I told her to stay close, oh where is she? What if she's been kidnapped? Oh Baloo, what if something's happened to her? What if she's scared and alone?"  
  
"I'm sure she's around here somewhere Becky, come on, we'll go ask one of the clerks to make an announcement for her. I'm sure we'll find her. Now, just calm yerself down honey, it's goin to be alright. Kit boy, you go on ahead and see if you can find her anywhere. We'll meet you by the front doors in about twenty minutes, okay?"  
  
"You got it, Papa Bear, don't worry Rebecca, we'll find her, she can't have gone far" Kit yelled the last over his shoulder as he jogged off to find his "little sister", wanting to hurry up and find her and get out of the boring department store.   
  
Rebecca, still huddled against herself in the comfort of the old green chair, turned onto her side, and sighed softly as the next dream began to unfold within her mind's eye.   
  
Rebecca and Baloo were dancing at their wedding. They had been married in March, and the reception was being held at an old Victorian Mansion, owned by the Daughters of the Confectionery. Baloo was wearing a dashing black tuxedo, and Rebecca was wearing a long ivory wedding gown. The dress had a long lacy train, puffed though short sleeves, a scooped neckline just low enough, without being suggestive, and a long back section, open except for a layer of intricately weaved satin lace. Baloo was slowly dancing across the empty floor with her. The sweet strains of "Moonlight Serenade" from the hired band drifted over and around them. She felt so safe in his embrace.   
  
"Baloo, this is the best night of my life, well, except for these shoes."  
  
"Well, you sure do look purdy, Beckers. I don't think I've ever seen you so dolled up before."  
  
"Baloo! You are Supposed to get dressed up for Your Wedding!," Rebecca said with an exasperated, but still good humored Look at her new husband.   
  
"Alright Becky, don't get your dander up. I've never done one of these before. You do look right pretty though."  
  
"Thank-you Baloo. You look wonderful in that tuxedo. I'm so glad they had one in your size."  
  
"Yeah, I was kind of hoping I wasn't going to have to wear that blue one again. It's kind of itchy in the back."  
  
"What? Oh, did you forget to take the tags off again, Baloo?"  
  
"Ohhhh . . . you're supposed to take them off first?"  
  
"Aaaghhh!"  
  
'He even used aftershave. Kit must have told him to. Mmmm, he smells wonderful!'   
  
'They look so nice together. I never in a million years thought it would happen, but it did. I never thought ol' Papa Bear would marry anybody, much less Miz Cunningham, but there they are. And I'm a part of it," Kit thought to himself with a smile as he watched his new parents slowly glide around the dance floor.   
  
The dream sequence then moved on to a scene later in the reception, much later. Most of the guests had gone home, and only Becky's family, and a few close friends of Baloo's were left. Becky had taken off her heels, and Baloo had removed his tie. Molly's hair ribbons were falling out, and Kit had long ago removed his coat. Everybody was relaxed and having a good time, and a few of the pilots had had a little too much champagne, but that only added the festivity of the evening. It was in this atmosphere that Baloo walked over to a yawning Molly, and in his most elegant southern gentleman voice asked her:   
  
"My dear Miss Molly, would you care to dance this next number with me?"  
  
Molly giggled her reply, and stuck her arms out to the big bear, who graciously bowed before picking his daughter up and whisking her off to the dance floor.   
  
Louie, who had realized what Baloo was going to do even as the old grey bear was walking over to the yellow cub, ambled his way over to the band leader, and whispered a request. The bandleader, a handsome zebra in a white suit, smiled and nodded vigorously.   
  
Baloo then escorted Molly down to the polished floor, bowed to her again, and she curtsied in response. Then, instead of the quiet slow dance Baloo had expected to hear, a rousing rendition of the big band classic, "One O'Clock Jump" began being pumped out by the band, lead by the smiling zebra.   
  
"Hey now Muffin, this here's a real song! Come on sweetheart, let ol' Papa Bear show you how it's done!" With that, Baloo swept up the giggling Molly, and began dancing wildly around the floor. Molly laughed the entire time, and desperately tried to keep up with her new father.   
At first the entire room began to laugh and cheer at "Ol' Baloo and Little Molly" then, at Rebecca's signal, which was to grab Kit and tell him to join the fun; the entire crowd grabbed a partner, paying little attention to species, gender, or level of intoxication, and joined in the last dance of the night.   
  
At that point, Rebecca began to stir from her place in the green armchair, almost waking up, but not quite. Slowly, as the pleasant dream of her second wedding filtered through her mind, a smile began to pull at the corners of her mouth.  
  
For the rest of the afternoon, Rebecca slept on, dreaming of the past; sometimes it brought pain, other times the memories the dreams brought back the were the best moments of her life.   
  
She was woken at four o'clock, by the sound of the front door closing. Kit had just gotten home from school, and was surprised to find Rebecca asleep.   
  
"Rebecca, I'm home! Guess what, there is this new baseball team forming at sch --- uh, Miz Cunningham?"  
  
As soon as she heard the door close, Rebecca awoke, and for a moment, she was completely confused as to why she was here, and why her eyes felt like sandpaper. When she caught site of Kit's face, the terrible news came rushing back at her. Her eyes filled with tears, and she rushed over to Kit, clutching him tightly as she spoke.   
  
Kit, on the other hand, was more worried than ever. Rebecca was never one to give in to excessive displays of any emotion, well, other than frustration and annoyance. Seeing her so vulnerable, and the way she clung to him scared Kit more than he felt it ought to of.   
  
'Something has happened. Molly's sick, or we're going bankrupt. Something awful has happened. I wonder what it is?'  
  
"Rebecca, uh, what's going on? Where's Molly? Is she okay? What's going on?" Kit managed to get out brokenly, between gasps for air as Rebecca hugged him, hard, repeatedly knocking the wind out of his lungs.   
  
"Oh Kit, I'm so sorry, I can't tell you how sorry I am for this to happen to you. You don't deserve this, your life has been so hard, and now you are losing another father. Oh Kit, Kit."  
  
'Oh my gosh. Is, Is, no, maybe if I don't say it, it won't be true, oh my gosh, Baloo's --- dead.' Kit was too shocked, and in far too much mental anguish to even attempt to speak to Becky at that moment. He wanted to run away, to hide, to escape this icy fear, which had suddenly invaded his chest.  
  
"Come over here Kit, I need to talk to you. Here, you come sit down at the table, and I'll bring you the letter. You will understand better if I do that. Come on, sit down, that's good. I'll be right back."  
  
Kit did as he was told, not because he really heard anything Rebecca was saying, rather because she was gently guiding him to the chair. Kit was lost within himself. He was thinking back to all the years at the orphanage, all the loneliness he had known there. Then he thought of his time with the air pirates, and how he so loved it when Baloo hugged him during those first flights in the Sea Duck.   
  
'But then, within such a short time he was like my Dad. I had never known my Dad, but it felt so nice to belong to someone. And then they adopted me. I don't want to be here any longer if he's gone. This place is as much a part of Baloo as it is a business, and to stay here would be torture. Where ---'  
  
"Kit honey, here sweetheart, read this. I'm going to go get you a glass of water, and you sit here and read this letter while I'm gone okay?"   
With that, Rebecca pushed the letter into Kit's open hand, and hurried off to get a glass of water for Kit and herself.   
  
Kit's face was a mask of horror and disbelief as he read the letter.   
  
"Dear Mrs. Baloo Von Bruinwald, we regret to inform you that your husband, Captain Von Bruinwald has been seriously-What, could it be? Maybe he isn't dead after all?   
  
"Captain Von Bruinwald has been seriously injured, and has been hospitalized in the Ally hospital in Thembria. We are doing all we can to save his leg and his life, but his prospects are grim. We advise you and the family to come at the earliest possible time.   
Usland Army, Air Force Division"  
  
It was not until he had read the letter several times over that he realized that it wasn't one of "those" letters, and that Baloo might make it out alive. At least there was hope. A few years ago Kit would never have thought about hope, but time and love had changed him considerably, and he fervently wished that his Papa Bear was going to come home again, alive.   
  
"Do you understand now Kit? We've got to start packing to go. We'll leave in the morning. I'm going to go and pick Molly up from school, and I'll drop you off at the house and you can start getting ready to go. Don't worry Kit, everything is going to work out, you'll see."   
  
"But Rebecca, what are we going to do with Higher for Hire? How can we just close down for all that time? Where exactly are we going? Will they even let us see him? What about all those army regulations Pap -- Baloo. . . was . . . always writing home about," Kit trailed off miserably.   
  
"Don't talk like that Kit. He's coming home, alive, and he is going to be here for you and Molly and for me. We aren't going to let him give up or give out on us, or on himself.   
We are just going to have to close down Higher for Hire for awhile. If we are gone too long, I can tell Henry to open back up and keep things going to some degree. He's a good man, and I trust him. Anyway, we can close up right now because there aren't any new orders coming in, especially with all the air raids they've been warning us about over the radio.   
And, the army wouldn't have sent us that telegram, basically requesting us to be come, if they didn't want us. Come on Kit, we've got to go get Molly, and get over to Thembria, that's where Baloo's base is located. We've got to get moving," Rebecca hastily replied to all of Kit's worries, nearly making his head spin as she rushed around the small office in a flurry of activity.   
  
For the first time, Kit began to understand why Rebecca had decided to go to business school, and later buy Baloo's Air Service. He had often wondered, but it was so clear now. It wasn't the money, she was trying to escape the loss of her first husband, Molly's father. She worked, planned, and generally busied herself when she faced a crisis or loss. He had never seen it clearly before, but it finally made sense. When Molly was kidnapped by Covington over that silly idol, Rebecca was the first to demand to know what had happened, and where they should go to retrieve her daughter. Every time something bad had happened, Rebecca had moved on, or tackled the problem head on, it was just the way she dealt with life. And the way she dealt with loss.   
  
With those words of encouragement, Rebecca and Kit got up and walked out of Higher for Hire, and into a waiting taxi Rebecca had called for while she got the water.   
  
***  
  
"Doctor! Doctor! I think he is about to wake up!" a short, blond goat was yelling at the army doctor, a small lion in a white lab coat.   
  
She was seated at the bedside of a large gray bear, his head girth in bandages, one wrist bound up in a cast, and one leg encased in a brace and bandages. He was wearing the typical army hospital garb of a long white shirt made of course cotton, and lying on a small army hospital bed, little more than a stable cot. He had been in that hospital for a week, if he survived, he would be there for much longer. He had been found five miles from his downed fighter plane with a concussion, several gashes on his head, a broken wrist, and a huge leg wound, in which he appeared to have been shot at close range and was then left to die.  
  
***  
  
Back in Cape Suzette, Rebecca was closing the doors of Higher for Hire. She had called Henry as soon as he returned from his delivery, and told him the news.   
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hello, Henry?"  
  
"Yes, can I help you?"  
  
"Hey Henry, It's Rebecca. I just wanted to let you know that my husband, you know, Baloo? Well, we just got a telegra ---"  
  
"Oh my Goodness Mrs. Von Bruinwald! I'm so sorry to hear that! I know how terrible this must be for you, if there is anything I can do, just say the word. Do you want me to sort of be around to answer phones and stuff for awhile while you get through all the preparations? I'd be more than happy to."  
  
"Oh no, Henry, you misunderstood. Baloo isn't dead, he was wounded, and the hospital wants us to come right away. They think he needs contact with familiar people. We don't have to worry about the worst, well, yet anyway."  
  
"I'm so glad to hear that, I never met Baloo personally, but his reputation as an Ace pilot stretches for miles. I know what a wonderful bear he must be. I'm sorry he was wounded. So, what do you want me to do with this place while you're gone?"  
  
"Henry, you are a wonderful person, and a great employee. I would normally be more than happy to let you take over the business in my absence, but the economy is so low and tensions are so high right now, I don't think it would be for the best. I'm just going to close down Higher for Higher until Baloo and I can get back. I have made arrangements with Louie to let you stay there, and you can always find some free-lance work while you're over there. The demand for a responsible pilot, especially with his own plane, is very high right now. You do understand don't you?"  
  
"You got it Mrs. Von Bruinwald. I'll just hole up over at Louie's. I've been going over there since he first opened the place. I'll keep an eye on things here, and make sure the Sea Duck stays put too. I hope you and your husband get back here soon, and safely. Good luck, God speed, and Clear Skies to all of you! Please give my love to the kids too!"  
  
"Thanks so much Henry, you are a dear, dear man. Thank you for your support. I've gotta run though, I'll see you in about a month I hope! Bye!"  
  
"Good-bye Mrs. Von Bruinwald, I wish you and yours well."  
  
With that, Rebecca hung up the phone, and continued on with her business of getting together all the first aid items along the lines of gauze, sterile pads, several different types of medical tape, alcohol, iodine, large doses of non-prescription pain killers, saline solution, and butterfly closures she could find around the apartment. She also packed several blankets, a heating pad, hot water bottles, a nightshirt of Baloo's, and his old flight shirt and jacket, freshly laundered and waiting for him. All of these things she packed into a small, separate bag, which she kept within easy reach and availability.   
  
As she looked around bedroom she and Baloo had shared for such a short time before Usland entered the war and he was drafted, her mind wandered into the realms of what might be.   
  
'What if I'm wrong? What if he does die? What are we going to do? I'm not sure Kit could handle that, and I don't know what I'd do. I'm sure I could find another pilot, but would I really want to? Every day, and every moment here would be a reminder, a painful one. What are we going to do if he doesn't come back . . . alive?'  
  
'I can't keep thinking like this. Baloo is going to be fine. He is going to get over whatever has happened to him, and he is going to come home, and be the pilot, father, and husband that he was meant to be. I've got to believe that, if not for me, or even for the cubs, for Baloo. He needs me.'  
  
'I wonder if I'm doing the right thing by taking Molly. That hospital can't possibly be a pleasant place to go to, especially as a small cub. But what if it's her last chance to see Baloo? She looks to him like a father, she always has. She loves him. Maybe I should go call Mom and Dad, I know they'd take her. Maybe it would be better if she remembered him as he was, I don't know if I want to make her face the reality of death yet. She's only nine after all. Yes, I guess I'll go call Mom.'  
  
Rebecca shook herself, willing her concentration back onto the brighter side of the situation. Hoping that her will alone would be enough to change the course of the next several days. Amidst these thoughts, and as she went to call her parents to make arrangements for Molly, her eye caught a small framed picture on the bedside table. It had been taken just a few short weeks before the bombing of Emerald Bay, and the entrance of Usland into the war. The picture had been taken at Easter, just a few months before that fateful day in December.   
  
Baloo and Rebecca had only been married for a month when the picture was taken, but they appeared to have been together forever. The photo had been taken outside a park they had taken the cubs to so that Molly could hunt for Easter eggs. Baloo was in a white shirt and brown corduroy jacket, and a forest green tie Rebecca had insisted he wear. Rebecca was wearing a robin's egg blue sun dress, with a huge bow in the back, and a large white straw sun hat. Molly and Kit were also dressed for the occasion. Kit had been convinced to leave his green sweater for one day, and to wear a button down shirt with a blue and green plaid sweater vest. Molly was dressed in blue gingham, and lots of ruffles and bows, the epitome of adorable child for the day.   
  
'If only the camera could tell you what's really behind that pert little nose,' Rebecca thought to herself as she smiled through her tears. The picture brought back memories of a better time and place, seeming lost forever now in this time of loss, war, and desperation. She reached out to touch the glass, wanting to be back in that moment in time, to spend the rest of her life in that sunny Sunday afternoon. Quietly, she went back to her perusal of the room, once again trying to think of anything she might be forgetting. Finally, she felt satisfied, and walked to the door, and turned out the light. All to aware of how different her life might be when she returned.   
  
Kit was in the other bedroom, having completed his packing in record time, eager to be on his way to "Papa Bear". He had begun helping Molly get ready to leave.   
  
"Okay, Molly, is that everything you need? Did you pack your toothbrush? What about your dolls? Hurry up, Molly, Rebecca wants us to leave NOW!"  
  
"It's okay, Kit. I've got everything I need, I just have to get an extra pillow for Millie, she likes to sleep in the car." With that, Molly left Kit, who was still hurriedly packing a few last minute items of his own, and ran off to her mother's room.   
  
'I wonder where we're going. Mommy wouldn't tell me. She never tells me anything! Kit sure is acting funny though. He isn't usually this cranky. I wonder if we're going to Nanna and Papaw's house. That would be really fun. I bet they'd let me ride the ponies now! I'm almost in second grade! I wonder why everyone is being so funny though. I wish Baloo or Wildcat was here. They'd tell me what was going on. Nobody ever tells me anything around here!'   
  
With that, Molly found herself in Rebecca's room. She ran over to the bed from the doorway, and jumped onto Rebecca and Baloo's bed. She giggled as she bounced on the springy mattress, but then she bounced into the night table and it fell to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. The lamp and the picture, both of which had formerly occupied the table, were now in a jumble on the floor along with a still giggling Molly. Quieting, she immediately picked herself up and listened for her mother, expecting Rebecca to be along any minute, yelling and scolding. Fortunantly for Molly, Rebecca was in the kitchen rummaging around in the cupboards, making sure there were no perishable items that would go bad while they were gone.   
  
A few minutes later, Molly was relieved that her mother hadn't heard the crash, but all too aware that if she saw the mess, Molly would be in serious trouble. So, she tried to hide what she had done by cleaning up. Molly began by trying to put the heavy lamp back up on the table, but found that she was too small to even lift it, much less replace it on the table. So, she righted the lamp and put it on the floor next to the bed, and picked up the picture she had knocked over. Noticing that she was part of the photo, she sat crossed legged on the floor and began to study the picture more earnestly.   
  
"Hey! That's me in that picture! And Kit, and Mommy, and Baloo!"   
  
'I remember that day', it was Easter, and Mommy and Baloo took me and Kit to the park to see what he Easter Duck had left for us. I really liked it when Baloo picked me up so that I could see the Easter Parade better. I can't wait until I'm in fourth grade and I get to be in the parade. I want to be a butterfly, and have big blue wings with lots of sparkles on them. Then we got into the car, and I fell asleep because I was so sleepy, my eyelids just wouldn't co-co-oper-ate with me. And they got all droopy, and I fell asleep. And then we got home, and I woke up, but I still pretended to be asleep, so that Baloo or Mommy would carry me up to bed. Baloo carried me, and I liked that, except when we went up the stairs, because I'm always afraid Baloo is going to fall down backwards and drop me. That was a really fun day. I miss Baloo, I wish he'd come back from his base. I wonder what his base is like. Maybe it's a place where they play baseball all the time. Baloo likes baseball. I sure do wish he'd come home though. I'd even play baseball with him whenever he wanted if he would just come back and make Kit happy, and take me for rides in the Sea Duck, and make Mommy yell at him for being late.'   
  
At that point, Molly began to start crying softly, and when Rebecca walked in a moment later, she found Molly sitting on the floor beside her bed, her face pressed into the down comforter, sobbing to herself. Rebecca could feel the tears stinging her eyes, and was suddenly angry.   
  
'I hate this! I hate this entire stupid war, what it is doing to our family, what it has taken from us. Damn the Knotzies, and damn Holter! How dare anyone do this to my family! If Baloo dies, I'm-I'm-I'm-oh, who am I kidding? I can't do anything to retaliate. This is bigger than me, so much bigger. There's nothing I can do but stand by and watch everything I love being torn apart, and there's not a thing I can do about it. I can't take her to see this. I am not going to submit my little girl to that horror. She's definatly going to Mom and Dad's.'  
  
"Oh Molly honey, what's wrong, come here baby, oh my sweet baby, what's wrong?"  
  
"I miss Baloo, mommy. I want him to come home. Was I bad? Is that why he went away? Does he not love us anymore? I would play baseball with him all the time if he would come home. I'd even let him play with my dolls if he wanted to. I miss him Momma." Molly sobbed, as Rebecca sat on the bed and pulled her daughter to her.   
  
'Why? Why did this happen? What did we do to deserve this? Why?'  
  
"Oh Molly honey, you didn't make Baloo leave. He had to go, the government called for him, and made him leave to go and fight. He isn't playing honey, he is fighting the Knotzies. They are horrible people who are doing terrible things to polar bears, just because they are white. They have to be stopped, and Baloo was asked to go and help. He didn't want to leave you and Kit. He loves you so much. You know that, he tells you so in every letter. Come on sweetie, lets get you cleaned up. We have to leave in a few minutes." With that, Rebecca picked Molly up and took her into the bathroom to wash her face and straighten her bows.   
  
In the bathroom, Molly was sitting on the counter next to the sink, still sniffling, but willingly submitting to Rebecca's attentions.   
  
"Where are we going Mommy? Why is Kit being so mean to me? He isn't usually like that. He yelled at me a whole bunch of times to hurry up while I was packing my stuff. When I asked him where we were going he told me to hush and hurry up. He looked real funny when he said it too. I've never seen him look like that before. Why won't anybody tell me what is happening? I want to know! I'm a part of the family too!"  
  
"I know you are honey. I wasn't sure whether I should tell you or not, but I guess you deserve an answer. Molly, Baloo was hurt while he was fighting the Knotzies. I don't know what happened, but it might be pretty bad. He might not live. Kit and I have to get down there and see him."  
  
"What about me? I'm going too, right? I want to see Baloo too. What do you mean that he might not live? He's going to come home then, is that what you mean? Is that why I'm not going, because Baloo is coming to see me?"  
  
"No Molly. You are going to Nana and Papaw's house. I don't think you need to see Baloo like this. And Molly, oh, how am I going to tell you this? Baloo might die. You remember your real Daddy? Remember how he didn't come home one day, and he couldn't be with you anymore? Remember how I told you you could still remember being with him, and that he would visit you while you were sleeping? Well, Baloo might not come back either. Maybe Baloo and Daddy are going to visit you in your dreams." At this point, Rebecca couldn't hold the tears back any longer. The look of horror and pain on her daughter's young features tore at her heart more than anything else she had ever witnessed. She wanted to protect both Molly and Kit from this so badly. She wanted to take them away from all this pain, take them somewhere that they would never have to face the horrible reality of death, loss, and shattered dreams. She wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare so badly she almost couldn't stand it. And the worst part was that this was no dream. This was a cold, hard reality, and what made it all the more terrible was the familiarity of the whole thing. She could still remember the night Kenneth died. She would never forget that night.   
  
"Thank goodness I finally got her to sleep. I don't know where she gets all that energy. Revolutionary new power source, four-year-old bear cubs. I can see it now. Oh well, she's asleep now. I don't understand how any child that can get into so much trouble during the day can look so peaceful and angelic at night. I just don't get it. And Robby wants to have another one. I can't handle one, much less two! Maybe I'll just have to connive Rob into babysitting for me one night while I go to the market. Then he'll understand what I'm talking about! Ah well, I know I wouldn't trade her for the world." Just then, the phone rang. Rebecca, assuming it was Robert calling to tell her he was coming home, hurried to the phone, eager for a few quite hours with her husband.   
  
"Hello, Cunningham residence."  
  
"Mrs. Cunningham?" a sad, and strangely flat voice said on the other end of the line.   
  
"Yes? Can I help you?" Rebecca replied, with just a flicker of nervousness tinging her words.   
  
"Mrs. Cunningham, this is Sargent Faulkner, down at the police station, we need you to come down here. There's been an accident, we need you to identify your husband. I'm so sorry ma'am, I truly am. If you can give me your address, I can send a constable over to get you. Are there any relatives or friends I should call to ride with you?"  
  
"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh, you must be mistaken, my husband is coming home from work, he must almost be here by now. I know he is fine, I said bye to him this morning. He is taking our daughter up to the mountains this Saturday. He can't be dead. You must be wrong . . ."  
At that last phrase, the sergeant heard the telephone bang against something hard, and he could hear Rebecca sobbing hysterically in the background.   
  
Returning to the present with a start, Rebecca shuddered, suddenly feeling very cold. Then she realized where she was and struggled to quickly gain control of herself in front of Molly.   
  
"But Mommy, I don't want Baloo to die. I need a Daddy. Everyone else has a Daddy. Kit needs a Daddy too. I know he does. Baloo can't die. We need him."   
  
At this point, Molly began to realize the futility of telling someone not to die in her own child-like way. She remembered when her goldfish had died, and how she couldn't stop it from happening. She also remembered how bad she felt that Goldy had died while she was in school. Molly didn't like the fact that she hadn't gotten to say good-bye to her fish. It would be even worse if she never got to say good-bye to Baloo.   
  
"I need to come Mommy. I need to remember what he smells like, and how he feels when he hugs me. I can't remember what he looks like very good. Not the details like I used to. I need to remember so that I can recognize him when I see him at night. I don't remember Daddy. I need to remember this Daddy."  
  
Nearly choking on stifled sobs, Rebecca pulled Molly against her chest, and spoke softly into her hair. "Okay baby. I understand. I just wanted to protect you, but you're right. You need to remember . . . Baloo."   
  
***  
  
"Uuuuuuuhhhhh . . . Mom? Mom? I thought you were dead. Guess not. Did you get the number on that bus? Mom, you sure are short now. Have you seen my shoes? I need them for school. . . .uhhhhhgggghhh"  
  
"Sir, Sir, can you hear me? Do you know your name?"  
  
"Yeah, of course I know my name. My name is Baloo. Hold up a second, you're a goat. My mom was a bear. Or maybe she was a goat. Why do I hurt? What'd I do? Man, I've never felt this bad before. Who are you?"  
  
"Welcome back Sir! We weren't sure you were going to make it there for awhile, but we're definatly glad to have you back! You are a soldier, a Captain to be exactly, in the fifth Fighting Usland Ranger's Air Squadron. Your plane crashed, and it looks like you were shot. Do your remember any of that?"  
  
"uhh, no, I don't think so. Hey, you mean those filthy, no-good, flea-ridden air pirates shot down My Baby! What happened to her? Is ol' Beckers gonna git her fixed? Oh my baby! Hey, was Kit with me? Oh NO! If anything's happened to Kit, oh, I don't know what I'd do!"  
  
"Captain, I'm afraid you don't understand. You are in an army hospital. Your bi-plane was shot down. Apparently you encountered some enemy soldiers, and they shot you and left you for dead. You're an extremely lucky bear to have been found in time. I don't know what the "Sea Duck" is as you call it, and who is "your baby"? I know your wife's name is Rebecca, and that you have two children, but I didn't see any mention of very young cubs in your file. Your son Kit is back in Usland with your wife and daughter. Are you sure you are feeling alright Sir?"  
  
"Ohh. So that would be why this doesn't look like the Cape Suzette hospital. So, you're not my mother either I guess. Okay, well, I think I'm going to head off to Louie's for awhile. I'll be home before dinner, okay Mom, or whoever you are. Tell Beckers to watch Kit for me, he's been acting funny lately. Teach him to tie his shoes if you can. I'll be back in time to see Molly graduate, don't worry Baghera. Bye now." With that last uninteligible thought, Baloo lapsed back into unconciousness, leaving the increasingly worried nurse to try to piece together what he had been talking about.  
  
'Okay. That was interesting. I guess he wasn't as lucid as I thought. I wonder who Bagheera is. That name wasn't in his file anywhere. I wonder what the Sea Duck is. Maybe it's some sort of a pet he had while growing up. I've heard from Dr. Polynesia that sometimes they regress while they're here, especially before they fully regain conciousness. I'd better go tell Dr. Prince what just happened,' the small goat thought to herself as she walked back to the nurse's station.   
  
"Dr. Prince? Hello, I just wanted to tell you about a rather interesting conversation I just had with one of your patients."  
  
"Yes, which one Clara? It wasn't our mystery man was it? I'm beginning to be a little worried about him."  
  
"Actually, it was Capt. Von Bruinwald. I was just finishing up with changing the dressing on his leg, and he suddenly started talking to me. At first he seemed aware of what was going on, so I started asking him if he knew his name, and if he knew where he was. He said that he did, and he asked me why he was here. I told him about his unit, and that he had crashed and later been shot. He then started going on about air pirates, a Sea Duck, and his baby, then he started making no sense at all, except that he mentioned his wife and cubs, somebody named Louie, and Bagheera. Neither of those names are in his file, so I don't know what he was talking about. He obviously wasn't fully conscious, but he did seem markedly more stable, and I think he may be starting to come out of it. I took his temp, and it's almost down to normal."  
  
"That is interesting. One thing I don't understand here though is why he seems to be suffering from the delusions one might associate with a more severe head injury. As you said, his fever has almost subsided, and it certainly isn't high enough to make him behave and speak in the manner you described. I think I might need to have a talk with Dr. Sidney Freedman, the local army psychiatrist. I know him personally, and he is a great doctor. Well, keep me posted Clara. I hope his family will get here soon. I think he's over the hump physically, but I think it would do him good to have familiar people around. I've had pretty amazing results with that sort of thing in cases a lot worse than Baloo's."   
  
"I'll do it Doctor, thanks for you time."  
  
***  
  
Later that night, during that dark and lonely time between midnight and dawn, when the world is at it's lowest ebb, and thoughts begin to wander, Baloo was reliving his own personal nightmare. One which he was doomed to replay for the rest of his life.   
  
The sounds of gunfire rang by the new fighter plane with a deafening roar, nearly hitting the right side engine.   
  
"Why now? I was almost back to the base. Darn the luck. Anyway, they don't know what they've gotten themselves into this time. This is the Ace of the Cape, and they are going to learn how it's done 'round here! YeeHa!"  
(author's note, that is Totally my Dad!)  
The next several minutes where spent in Baloo's executing every different type of trick flying he knew, which was a vast store indeed. At one point, he almost thought he'd lost the Knotzi scum, only to find them back on his tail a few moments later.   
  
The real terror, and the source of his current injury occurred half an hour into their game of cat and mouse. Baloo was in the middle of one of his famous corkscrews when suddenly the controls froze in his hands, and he found himself plummeting nose first into the hard, cold ground of Thembria, only a few short, yet deadly, miles away.   
  
The fighter planes on his tail realized his predicament, and circled overhead of the soon-to-be crash site, seeming to all the world like giant steel vultures, waiting for a dying animal to breath it's last. All the while smirking to themselves and making jokes about the "stupid gray bear", as they flew on overhead, confident in Baloo's approaching doom.   
  
"Damn! Mayday! Mayday! She's goin down! What I wouldn't give to be in the Duck right now. . . . Good-bye Becky, I love you. Oh Lil' Britches, and Muffin, did I ever tell you how much I love you?"  
  
Several hours later, Baloo awoke in the debris of his once proud fighter plane, now merely a mass of twisted metal, and broken engine parts. Miraculously, he had avoided death, but only narrowly, as the blood stained seat back and control panel told a gory story. At impact, Baloo had been thrown forward into the control panel, and then bounced back into the headrest of the downed plane.   
  
He awoke to an incredible throbbing in his skull, and a dull ache in his right arm.   
  
"Ohhhhh. I can't go to school today Mum, I'm dying . . . That was one heck of a party Louie, I just wish I wasn't feelin myself think . . . uuuuggghhh . . . "  
  
Baloo lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness for the next several hours. Fortunately, he wasn't bleeding badly from any of the lacerations on his head, and his broken wrist, though certainly painful, was not life threatening. Finally, Baloo came out of his stupor, his head in a world of pain, bright light causing him agony, and his arm swollen grotesquely and throbbing with each beat of his heart, but alive. And he still had the ability to move, and hopefully make it back to the base.   
  
"Ohhh, boy. That was bad. Ughh, my head. I wonder which way it is to the base? I know I can't be far, I was almost there when those Knotzi's shot me down. I wonder what happened? I can't remember any of it. That can't be a good thing."   
  
With that frightening thought, Baloo got up, with a little difficulty, as he was still experiencing some dizziness from his concussion. After a few tries, however, he managed to get to his feet, and set off in what he hoped was the direction of the base.   
  
Baloo continued to slog forward for the next hour or so, and was actually making fairly good progress when he was suddenly stopped short by a well aimed shot, almost directly in front of him.   
  
"Hahahahahaha! That was only a warning my stupid Allied friend. You are now a prisoner of Captain Von Liederhosen (I'm sorry, I couldn't resist), next time, you won't be so lucky.   
  
'Oh boy, this definatly wasn't covered in basic' Baloo thought to himself, at the same time he raised his arms, showing that he was willing to cooperate. The rather small silver wolf then jumped out of the tree he had concealed himself in, and, gun still pointing at Baloo's chest, walked over to the big gray bear.   
  
'If he didn't have a gun, this could be an interesting little boxing match. I wish they had seen fit to outfit us pilots with weapons. Man, I never thought I'd see the day I'd wish for that. Great, I survive the plane crashing, only to be tortured in a German concentration camp until I die there. This is just not my day.'  
  
These thoughts, and those like them continued to run through Baloo's head as he was slowly marched at gunpoint deeper into the woods.   
When they had gone a half a mile, and were in the deepest part of the Thembrian woodlands, far away from where anyone would hear either gunshots, or screams, the wolf commanded Baloo to halt. Both of the pilot and the rogue soldier were aware of these things. Baloo was pretty sure of what was going to happen to him, but he was not about to beg for mercy from any Knotzi.  
  
'Ol' Baloo never thought it was going to end like this. It was fun while it lasted. I just wish this whole stupid war never started. I hope that the family will be all right. I'm sure Beckers can take care of them, it is just so awful that she has to lose another husband. Especially as the poor shmuck is me. Poor kids.'   
  
Suddenly Baloo's train of thought was interrupted by the Knotzi captain sharply telling him to turn around, all the while poking him harder in the back with the butt of the rifle.   
  
"Okay, Okay you mean thing! I'm a gettin. You don't have to be so dang eager you know!" Baloo mumbled angrily as he turned to meet his doom.   
  
The wolf just smiled an evil, sharp toothed grin, and told Baloo that his "problems with this 'Mean Thing' were about to be over, for good."  
"My dear pilot, I am not an unsporting man. I like to give everything I hunt at least a bit of a chance. But, because you are such an insufferable fool, and because I am having such a despicable day, I'm going to give you a break from the chase portion of our little game. I'm going to shoot you, make no mistake, but not in a manner that would prove immediately fatal."  
  
Baloo was beginning to realize that this was not a typical Knotzi soldier, rather, this was a mad-man in a soldier suit. He was stark raving mad, and Baloo was not going to appreciate the next several hours. He could feel a small line of cold sweat running along the length of his spine. For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid of not making it out alive.   
  
The wolf reached into his right breast pocket, and withdrew a compass, and a map. He then set these over by a large tree, situated oddly in the center of the otherwise treeless clearing.   
  
"That, my dear, stupid pilot, is a map of this area, with a clearly marked route back to your base. The compass is to help you with direction, although seeing as you are a pilot, you probably don't need it. I am going to have you stand over by that tree, and I am going to tie you up. Then we are going to have a little fun. After my little game is over, I am going to leave you here, with the map and compass. It will then be up to you whether you live or die."   
  
Baloo should have been relieved at this small chance of survival, but he wasn't. If anything, he was more worried now than before.   
  
'This guy's so far off his rocker, I'm amazed even Holter was willing to take him on as a soldier.'  
  
With that, the crazed wolf fitted his actions to his words, and tied Baloo securely to the tree. He then backed off twelve paces, carefully measuring each pace. He then raised his gun, aimed at Baloo, and fired.   
  
An immediate explosion of pain was set off in Baloo's leg. The wolf had kept his grisly promise, and the huge gaping hole in Baloo's leg was staining the ground all around him with an impossibly large puddle of crimson. Baloo didn't even make a sound, or feel the dawning agony, because just as the wolf fired, he passed out, and lay slumped against the tree.   
  
The wolf continued to keep his promise, and quickly set about untying the unconscious Baloo, and wrapping one of the coarse bonds around the pilot's leg in a sort of makeshift tourniquet.   
  
The wolf then left his unwilling prey, and marched staunchly off into the woods, on to his next insane assignment.   
  
Baloo knew no more, and did not wake from his artificial death until several days later, in an army hospital where he was now resting, if not comfortably then at least safe from the enemy.  
  
The night shift nurse, a young tabby cat with piebald coloring was working at a battered army desk when she was startled by the sounds of movement and cries of fear. She looked toward the sound, and found one of her patients, Baloo, thrashing about in his bed and mumbling loudly to himself. She immediately hurried over to her patient, and did her best to calm him down. At first she simply held down his arms, fearing that he might open his stitches, or at the very worst re-injure his still fragile leg. After several minutes of the young tabby restraining him, and with her softly speaking his name in an attempt to calm him, she finally noticed some improvement. He seemed to have stopped thrashing, and was beginning to lie still, although he continued to mumble and his twitch his fingers spasmodically.   
  
The expression on his face was one of complete terror, a horror so complete, that the young nurse could only look at him with difficulty. He was scaring her more than anything else. She had often seen him before, and if anything he had seemed like an extremely kind and pleasant individual. Now he seemed to be on the brink of some endlessly dark abyss, doomed to fall, and all too aware of his inability to save himself. Although, even as the young nurse watched, his features began to relax, he ceased his mumbling and twitching, and returned to a peaceful sleep. When she was certain that he was not in danger of hurting himself, the young nurse backed away and sat down on empty cot beside Capt. Von Bruinwald.   
  
She had not intended to stay, but she was interested in spite of herself. None of the other patients had affected her like this before. His moment of extreme terror and helplessness had touched some primeval maternal instinct deep within her young heart, and she felt a need to watch over him, almost a need to protect him from the memories he seemed to be tortured by.   
  
'I wonder who he is. I mean who he really is. I checked his file, and so I know the bare bones about his life, but what sort of an existence can be covered in just a few facts on a couple of sheets of a type-written report? I wonder if he is a good father and husband. What makes him laugh? What sorts of things does he enjoy? I wonder if he likes to fish. My father loved fishing. I remember he used to take my brother and I down to the pond at the farm. I swear I think he had those catfish trained to jump onto the hook. We never cooked them, I always insisted that we let them go. I hated killing the worms too. My brother used to insist that I was a sissy, but I never saw him touching them either!   
I wonder what kind of a man he is. Is he as good-natured as he appears? I wonder if likes to play with children. A good man is almost always one who truly enjoys the attentions of children, and who doesn't talk down to them, and treat them like house pets. I wonder what kind of movies he likes to see. Does he like comedy, drama, silent or talkies? I wonder what kind of things he likes to do when he has free time. I wonder what kind of childhood he had. Did his parents love him? Did he have a pleasant childhood filled with good memories of lazy summer afternoons? Or were his childhood companions pain and misery? I wonder.   
He certainly looks kind. Sort of like a big jolly uncle, the one who always has the neatest things to show you, and always has a butterscotch in his pocket for eager little hands. But he also has a shadow of pain, guilt almost. It seems to be a very old feature, no longer prominent, just a vague shadow haunting the creases of his eyes and the corners of his mouth. Maybe he and his parents didn't get along. Or maybe some horrible tragedy occurred early in his life. Oh, why am I doing this! I have much better things to do than take these little flights of fancy. You'll never see him again, and it's really none of my business anyway. Ah well, I guess I'm just tired. I know that Clara is going to be here soon, and I'd best get that report done.'   
  
"Good-night Capt. Sleep well."  
  
***  
  
The next morning Rebecca, Kit and Molly had finally arrived at Baloo's base, located on the outskirts of Thembria. They had spent a cold and unpleasant night aboard a cargo plane, the owner of which Rebecca had conned a ride to Thembria out of. But, they had finally arrived, and had spent the past half hour trying to convince the officials that they were the Von Bruinwalds, and they had been sent for to come to the aid of Capt. Baloo Von Bruinwald.   
  
Becky, Kit and Molly had been waiting through an uncountable number of ID checks, background checks, and other official bureaucratic business, for hours. They had arrived at the base that morning at about nine, and it was now one o' clock. Molly had been crying for hours, complaining that she was hungry, or that she needed to go to the bathroom, or that she was cold, and hundreds of other grievances. Rebecca had been too busy screaming at any official within earshot to worry with Molly, and Kit had been trying to comfort Molly and keep her quite, all the while wishing with all his might that he was somewhere, anywhere, else.   
  
"I have told you this over and over! I don't see why I have to go through all this just to see my husband! For all I know, he could be dying, and you people are keeping my children and myself from their father. I want to speak to your boss, or general, or whatever it is you call a superior around here! NOW!"  
  
"Kit, why do you think they won't let us in? I want to see Baloo." Molly asked as she clutched Kit's hand within her own small ones.   
  
"It's okay Molly. I don't know why they are doing this, except that we are in Thembria, and this is just how life happens in Thembria," Kit replied with a sigh, remembering the other times he had spent in Thembria with Baloo and Becky.   
  
"I just wish they would let us in. I mean, what are we going to do? Look at people cross-eyed? We're obviously not armed, and I don't think they could possibly think that Holter is using nine-year-olds as spies. Not even Danger Woman spies," Kit said with a smile at Molly.   
  
"I'm not Danger Woman right now. I am scared, and cold, and hungry, and I want to go and get Baloo and take him home. Why won't they just let us in?" Molly sighed as she snuggled closer to Kit on the hard floor they had seated themselves on.   
  
Before Kit could reply, Rebecca heard a familiar voice in one of the other hallways.   
  
"No sir, you are right sir, of course sir, it is my fault, completely my fault. I'll get on the paperwork right now Col. Spigot sir."   
  
'Hey! That's Dunder! I know he could vouch for us!' "Hey you! Yes, come here! I know how I can identify myself to you people. Go get Sergeant Dunder, he knows me and Kit, and I think he might remember Molly. I heard him just a minute ago, come on, I need to see my husband!"  
  
"If there wasn't a war going on, we would have you face the firing squad, you know that lady?" the little warthog said as it trudged off in search of Dunder.   
  
***  
  
Back within the hospital, Baloo had finally woken up completely, and was now the subject of many questions by the hospital staff.   
"Aw come on, guys, can't you give a bear a break? I'm starvin'. Let's eat, and then you vampires can take more blood and ask me more dang fool questions. Did you all say that you had notified my family? Do you know if they're here yet?"  
  
Baloo had directed his last question at one of the retreating nurses, the small goat who happened to be the head nurse at the hospital.   
"Yes, captain, we did notify your family. I haven't heard anything about their arrival yet, though. I'm sure they'll be here soon. Why don't you relax for a little while, I've got to go and get lunch ready for you boys."   
Clara replied as she bustled off to finish her morning rounds before lunch.   
  
Just then, a commotion was heard in the hall, and a small yellow bear cub careened into the room, scattering ambulatory patients, nurses, and doctors alike.   
As soon as she finished skidding into the room, she looked about her, and immediately began to cry.   
  
Baloo had just lied back into his pillow, when he heard a familiar voice, and struggled to sit back up in bed, eager to know if he was just imagining things, or if he was really his little girl he had heard.   
  
'That sounds just like Molly! I sure do hope they made it here okay. 'Humph, this is harder than it used to be' the big gray bear thought, as he pulled himself into a sitting position in the cot.   
  
"Molly!? Molly?! Is that you cupcake? I'm over here Molly, where's Kit, and your Momma?"   
  
Rebecca, Molly, and Kit had finally been identified by Dunder, and gained access to the hospital proper. Rebecca was eager to see Baloo after all the months of separation, but Kit seemed more than a little hesitant to venture further into the hospital.   
  
The familiar scent of disinfectant burned Kit's eyes and nose, and brought back memories of other institutions. Memories of his years in the orphanage, and bits of memories, burred by time and years, of his life before the death of his parents. Not memories per say, for they were only bits of voices, colors, and scents from before he was an orphan. One of those scents was a hospital disinfectant, and unlike most of those vague, transitory remembrances, which were pleasant and warm, the scent of disinfectant, disease, almost one of death, was always certain to send a cold chill down Kit's spine.   
  
Molly, who before had seemed scared and small, hiding behind her mother or Kit, was now running down the hall as fast as she could toward the only open door. Rebecca told her to stop and wait for them, but she paid no heed, and ran further until she was in the hospital wing where Baloo was being kept.   
  
Molly ran into the room, and almost fell as she tried to stop on the polished floor. Her senses were immediately hit by a wave of medicinal smells, infection, disease, cotton, hot water, and cold metal. Her vision swam, and the only things she saw where injured men, covered in bandages, some moaning pitifully, others missing legs and arms, and still others coughing horribly, their throats raw and burning from being gassed in the trenches. Molly was incredibly frightened, not only by what she saw, but by an unshakable belief that her Daddy was already dead, and that she was now in this horrible place all by herself.   
Then, through her tears and fear, she heard a familiar voice, and a nickname she thought she might never hear again.   
  
"Molly!? Molly?! Is that you cupcake? I'm over here Molly, where's Kit, and your Momma?"   
  
Molly stopped crying, and looked around, searching for Baloo, wondering if she really wanted to see him, or is this was really just some horrible nightmare that she could wake up from if she tried hard enough.   
  
As one of the nurses came over to help the pitiful Molly, she scrambled up from her place in the floor, and ran over to Baloo, jumping onto his stomach and wrapping her arms around his neck as best she could.   
  
"Humph! Watch out kid, I ain't the bear I used to be. I know you didn't get clearance for that landin'! Where're Beckers and Kit? I know they wouldn't let my little cub come by herself now would they?"  
  
Rebecca and Kit had come running down the hall after Molly, and had arrived just in time to witness her crash landing onto a heavily bandaged Baloo, and her enthusiastic greeting.   
  
Rebecca hurried over, anxious to make sure that Baloo was all right, especially after his little run-in with their daughter.   
  
Kit on the other hand, seemed more reluctant than ever to see his father. He stayed back in the doorway to the room, several cots away from Baloo and the rest of the family. Rebecca was so busy trying to make sure that Molly had not hurt either herself or Baloo that she didn't notice Kit's new hesitance. Baloo, on the other hand, did, but refrained from saying anything about it, knowing that Kit had to deal with things his own way, and at his own pace.   
  
"Hey there Becky. How are things back home?" Baloo asked with a tired smile at his wife.   
  
"Hello Baloo. We're doing okay. The Duck is all ready for you to start flying her again, just as soon as you can. How are you doing? What happened? What's going to happen to you?" Rebecca asked, a look of concern creasing her features sharply. Almost against her will, her eyes kept traveling over Baloo's face, trying to find his eyes past the bandages covering his head. Searching for a glimpse of the happy-go-lucky pilot she had married such a short time ago.   
  
"I'm okay Beckers. You know me, Ol' Baloo's a hard one to get rid of, if you know what I mean. They tell me I'll be getting out of this dump soon, and then it's off to Cape Suzette. I don't rightly remember what happened. All I know is that I was in ma plane, flyin back to base here, and then I got stuck in the middle of a dog fight. I almost got away from em, but the controls on the plane stuck, and I then next thing I know I'm plummetin a thousand feet, nose first, and all I can think of is you and the kids. After that, it's a blank. From the looks of things, I'm not sure I want to remember what happened to me after that. For now, I'm just glad to be back here with you, and Kit and lil' Molly." With that last phrase, Molly, who had gotten down off the bed, had became suddenly shy, and crept behind her mother.   
  
Baloo was beginning to tire, and Rebecca could see the lines of pain becoming more pronounced in the creases next to his mouth and eyes. Baloo had sunk back into the pillow behind his head, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and his eyes squeezed shut. There was just so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to say, so many things she never thought they would be together to do again. The relief at finding him alive was like a drug, she was insanely giddy with happiness one minute, and breaking out in a cold sweat at the loss she and the cubs had so narrowly avoided the next.   
  
After a few moments, Kit ventured forth into the room, fighting off his fear and his tears, determined to see his Papa Bear. Rebecca caught sight of him as he rounded the farthest bed, and quickly motioned for him to come over, realizing his fear and hesitancy. As soon as she was sure he was coming over, and wasn't about to stop again, she took Molly by the hand, and told her to come along and see if they could find the cafeteria. Rebecca had an inkling of what was coming, and she knew that Baloo and Kit would need some time alone.   
  
"But Mommy, what about Kit? Isn't he hungry too?"  
  
"Kit can find us in a little bit. He needs to talk to Baloo right now. Come on, Molly, maybe they'll have ice cream for dessert."  
  
As Rebecca turned to go, Molly took one last look at Baloo, and overcame her new-found timidity to hug him tightly around the neck. Baloo opened his eyes, and gently held her with his uninjured right arm.   
  
"Come back soon, Muffin, I'll be right here waitin for ya. You know where to find ol' Papa Bear."  
  
"Okay, Baloo. Please tell Kit it's going to be okay. He has been really worried about you ever since you left. He really misses you a lot."  
  
"Okay punkin. I'll do that." Baloo replied, once again overcome by the perceptiveness of his young daughter.  
  
Molly then scurried over to Rebecca, who was waiting in the doorway.   
  
When Molly and Rebecca had left, Kit found the last bit of courage he needed to face Baloo in his present circumstances, and walked slowly to the big gray bear's bedside.   
  
Kit wouldn't look at Baloo, instead he studied his feet and the floor with great intensity, waiting for Baloo to speak first.   
  
"Heya Lil' Britches. I see you've been keeping the girls safe while I was gone. How's life been treatin you? Did you get my letters?"  
  
"I've been doin pretty good. Rebecca's been doin a good job of keeping Higher for Hire afloat, although business is definatly slim with all the air raid warnings and the rationings going on."  
  
The next several minutes were spent in an uncomfortable silence, with neither bear knowing what to do or say next.   
  
'Should I touch him? He seems so grown-up now. He's always been such a scared little bear cub in so many ways, although that part was buried deep, there was always that shell of tough, street-wise adult covering everything else. I sure do wish this hadn't of happened. I'm not good at this part of fatherin. Beckers'd know what to do. I just don't know how to deal with this. I've always been the one he could count on. The shelter he could run to. Now he knows that I won't be here forever.   
I want to reach out and hug him, pull him close and tell him that everything is going to be all right. I just don't know if it's the right thing to do though. Man, I wish I knew what to do!'  
  
'I don't know what to say. I always thought he could get through anything; we have been through so much! He looks so old now. Old and tired. It's like someone just drained him. He's so vulnerable now. I've never seen him like this. I don't know what to do. I want him to hug me close and never let me go. I wish everything could just go back to normal. I can't get behind that tough act I got so good at anymore. Not with Baloo. He's my Papa Bear, so why do I feel so funny around him now?'  
  
At that point, Kit broke down completely, the pain, terror, and loneliness of all the years of his life came welling up in one great surge of unstoppable tears. For the first time in his life, Kit was able to cry, be held, and be comforted without feeling self-conscious or ashamed. With tears streaming down his face, he ran to Baloo, who was unable to stop a few of his own tears from escaping. Baloo held the boy as tightly as he could, relieved that Kit had managed to overcome his personal obstacles, but also filled with anger and sorrow at what this young cub had already been through in his young life.   
  
"Believe me Kit boy, someone will always be there for you. Even if I'm gone, you will always have Becky and Molly, and Becky's parents, and Wildcat and Clementine. And someday you will have a family of your own, you aren't ever going to be alone again Kit. You have a lot of people who love you now, and we won't ever let you go." The next several minutes Baloo just held onto the sobbing Kit, thinking of how much the cub had gained, and lost, in his short, young life.   
  
After what seemed like an eternity, Kit stopped crying, but was still unwilling to let go of Baloo. He was clutching Baloo's nightshirt tightly within his small paws, clutching on for dear life, as if he was to let go, he would lose the only father he had ever known, forever.   
Baloo just held him tightly, understanding in his own way that Kit just needed contact, not words at that moment.   
Baloo and Kit were frozen in that place for long moments, Kit still snuffling slightly, and Baloo rocking back and forth as he slowly rubbed the cub's back.   
"I've never known how to say it before, but, I love you Kit. I love you and Molly more than anything else in this whole big wide world. And that can never be killed.  
You'll never be alone again, Kit boy, never again." All the while thinking back to a time when those same words had been offered as comfort to Baloo himself.   
  
The next several days passed in a blur of activity. Kit was slowly adjusting to this new, vulnerable side of Baloo he had never before witnessed, Rebecca was busily filling out mountains of paperwork to get back out of Thembria with Baloo, and Molly was busily practicing her sweet charm on many of the other soldiers in the hospital, having overcome her fear and shyness quickly.   
  
Finally, after almost two weeks, Baloo was pronounced healthy enough to be discharged into the care of his family, and Rebecca had cut through all the governmental bureaucracy and chartered a flight home.   
  
"Come on Beckers, let's get the kids and get out of here! I'm 'bout to go out of my mind with all this fussin' and not bein' able to move about on by myself!"  
  
"I never thought I would ever hear you complain about having to be still for too long. Miracles never cease, do they?"  
  
"Oh, very funny Beckers. Just you wait, I'll get you back for that, just wait and see," Baloo replied with a mischievous glance at his wife.  
  
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that. The last time you tried to pull one over on me, I ended up almost getting shot out here, and the Sea Duck was turned into a housing development. I'm not entirely sure I could live through another of your little schemes."  
  
"Now wait just a doggone minute there, you were the one who decided to start that mid-air refueling service, that landed me in the hospital for a week, if you might recall."  
  
"Okay, okay, truce?"  
  
"Truce," Baloo replied with a grin and a faraway look in his eyes.  
  
Baloo was quiet for the next several minutes, and Rebecca was loathe to disturb him. For the first several days after their arrival, Baloo had been quite, but not in a good way. He had been in pain, and didn't want to admit it, and he was still recovering from the mental shock of the ordeal he had gone through. Rebecca had heard about his nightmares from the nurses, and knew that her husband remembered more than he was willing to tell her about his run-in with the enemy.   
But, over the past week, his silences had all but disappeared, and he was beginning to be more like the pilot, husband, and father that she had first bought out, then employed, and later married. He would still sit for spells, staring off into space, a hurt and lonely expression on his face, but not as often as before, and he generally seemed to snap out of it fairly quickly. Rebecca felt certain that her husband was going to leave this place, or this war with more than physical scars. The man she had married was gone. The tragedy of losing friends and honored compatriots, combined with his own near death was something not easily forgotten, and Baloo would carry these things with him like heavy chains for the rest of his life, forever coloring his views of life and of the world. Rebecca only hoped he would be able to overcome them enough to be truly happy again.   
Rebecca only hoped he would be able to someday get past those horrible events, and be something of the old Baloo she had once known.   
  
But, this silence was different from those of the past weeks, as was the look on Baloo's face. Rebecca noticed a small smile playing at his mouth, and he seemed to be seeing a pleasant scene in his mind's eye. She briefly wondered what it was that was so pleasant a thought, but decided not to interrupt it.   
  
'The poor man's been through enough. I certainly don't need to break the spell of his only real happiness in the past month.' With that thought, Rebecca quietly got up from her husband's bedside, and went to go find out what Kit and Molly had gotten up to.   
  
Baloo was thinking of being home, and of the day when he could fly his baby, the Sea Duck again for the first time since he had left for the service. He remembered his last flight, a quite one he had flown alone. A simple cruise around several miles of open ocean, just wandering wherever the wind and his own subconscious took him. That memory was bittersweet, but his maiden flight after the war would be sweet bliss, and Baloo could hardly wait.   
  
'I'm gonna take the old girl out for a spin, alright Beckers?"  
  
"Okay, Baloo, take your time, we don't have any more deliveries for today."  
  
"Bye Beckers. I'll be back in a bit."  
  
"Have fun."  
  
With that, Baloo slowly walked out of the office of Higher for Hire, and over to the orange and yellow seaplane, which had been aptly named the Sea Duck by its first owner. Baloo heaved himself up into the cockpit, and ran through his preflight checklist. Soon, he had taxied out of the harbor, and was flying over open ocean, alone with his thoughts.   
  
'I love this. I love being able to come out here and just be alive. Me, my plane, and the sky. For so long that was the only thing I had ever needed. Yeah, once. I never thought I'd see the day when I had two kids of my own, and I was married, 'specially not to ol' Beckers. Hmmm. Life sure is a funny thing.   
  
I remember my first flight ever. I went with my brother, Grady. He was so much older than I was, he was almost like the Dad I needed so badly. Our real father was a miserable cuss, always drunk and always mean. I was never sorry about the day he finally left. Good riddance, and now he couldn't hurt us or Mother any more. It was kinda hard to make ends meet there for awhile, but once I got a job we were doin' okay. A 'course, I couldn't got ta school while I was workin, but I think it worked out alright. I've got two wonderful kids, and I own half of a cargo company, not to mention the Sea Duck. Yep, I could be doin a lot worse.   
  
Baloo's thoughts then began to drift back to his far off childhood, and his brother Grady.   
  
Grady called me up early that mornin', sayin he had a surprise waitin for me in the barn. I couldn't figure out what it coulda been. I was so surprised when I saw that big yellow plane in there.   
  
"But Grady, how did you pay for it? Momma's gonna be awful mad if you spent this month's mortgage money on a plane!"  
  
"Oh, don't worry Lil' Britches, I've been savin up for a long time now, ever since you were born. I decided then that someday I would buy a plane, and get you, me, and Momma outta here and away from Papa. Lucky for us, Papa skeddadled first though. Anyway, I had the money, and this old guy down at the pier was closing out his business and I figured I might buy his ol' plane from him. I got it about a month ago, and at first it didn't run quite right, but I've got it all figured out now. I can't fly her yet, we've gotta get somebody to tow her down to the bay, and then we can take off. Besides, I've gotta be at work in a little while, but I just wanted you to come out and see her, seein as you been crazy over planes ever since you was born, practically.   
  
"Come on in, Lil' Britches, I'll pull ya up, and then you can play like we're flyin. I'll tell ya what to do."  
  
"Really!? You'd let me play in your plane? Are you sure? I, I, don't want to hurt it or nothin'."  
  
"Aw, there ain't nothin' you could do to hurt this ol' girl while she's on the ground. Come on, git yourself on up here and try her out, I'll even turn her on for you, but we can't move 'cause we're up on the land, and, Momma'd tan our hydes' if we drove a plane through the barn."  
  
Baloo, then only five years old, spent the next half hour in one of the best times of his rather bleak childhood. He always loved being with his brother Grady, and had long since looked up to him almost as an adult, Grady being ten years older than little Baloo.   
  
Then next scene in Baloo's own personal memory theater was the day his brother had left for WWI.  
  
Baloo and Grady's mother had been crying and hysterical all morning, refusing to tell Baloo what was wrong, simply stating that the Great War was finally hitting home. Baloo had no idea what she meant by that. He knew about the war raging in almost every country in the world, but up until now, it had simply been a war, an abstract term with no bearing on the Von Bruinwald household, or even all of Usland, really. He was awaiting the return of his brother, who was then twenty-four, to get home, and comfort their mother and explain the situation. Baloo finally went to the barn to play with his brother's plane, which they had recently named "The Sea Duck". Baloo always loved playing in it, dreaming of the day when they could get it out to the bay, and fly it for the first time. Grady already knew how to fly, having been employed as a crop duster for several years, and Baloo was ecstatic when he had offered to teach him how to fly in the Sea Duck someday. Baloo had read every flight manual, and book about flight instruction he could get his hands on, and was fully versed in the theories of flight, if not in actual practice.   
  
Several hours passed with Baloo's mother, Dorothy, pacing and crying in the house, and Baloo playing in the dusty plane. Baloo was becoming increasingly sleepy, and finally curled up in one the captain's chairs in the cockpit to take a nap until Grady came home.   
  
In the meantime, Grady arrived home from work, and was greeted to the numbing news that he had been drafted, and was to report to Fort Gluck in a month's time. He was in shock, saddened but also excited, eager to fight for his country, and more than a little ready to escape the monotony of his homeland, and have what he considered grand adventures fighting in distant lands. When he had sufficiently calmed his mother, and put her, exhausted from her worry, into bed, he went out to find his little brother, and tell him the news, knowing where he would find him.   
  
"Hey Baloo! Hey, Lil' Britches, you up there? Momma's been worried about you!"  
  
"Huh, uh, oh, sorry Grady, I must've fallen asleep. I came out here to play, cause Momma was actin so funny, and you weren't home yet, and I was bored. What's got Momma's dander up so bad, anyway?"  
  
"I got drafted Lil' Britches! Isn't that great! I'm going to get out of this hole and off into the world! I can send you all sorts of post cards and stuff from other countries, and share all the news of fighting off the Central powers. I'm goin' to get to go and fight for Usland, fight for everything that's right! Isn't this great?"  
  
"Hey, that sound's nice Grady, so you are goin to leave though, huh? I sure am gonna miss you. It will be great to get your letters though! It'll be like playin cowbears and Indys when we were little, only this time it'll be real!"  
  
"That's right Lil' Britches, this is goin to be a real move up for all of us, because the army pays pretty good too, and I'll be able to send you and Momma money home, because the government provides all of our clothes, food, and places to live. You and Momma can finally get the roof fixed, and maybe if I do real good and get promoted, we can get a new house altogether! Wouldn't that be wonderful?"  
  
"That would be awful nice . . . But, but, what if you get hurt, or somethin? What would we do then? Who is goin to teach me to fly if you go off and get yourself killed?"  
  
"Oh, you're just an old hen, Lil' Britches. I'm not going to get killed. This war'll be over before you know it, and then I'll be back and we can get a nice new house, and maybe even one of those new motorcars. That would be great, wouldn't it? And, I don't have to leave for a month, so why don't we start your flyin lessons tomorrow? I can get ol' Mr. Potter to come down and haul the Sea Duck out for us, and we can tie her up down at Doc Finis's place when we're not flyin her. I'd bet you're goin to be a great pilot Lil' Britches, heck, you're my little brother, so there's no way you can be anything but the best!"  
  
"Oh would you, Grady? I can't think of anything I would like more. I can't wait for you to come back from the war, and everything will be just great!"  
  
The only problem was that Grady never came home again. He got down there, had his month in basic, and then off to the front the sent him. Baloo and Dorothy got two postcards from him, and then he was gone. Baloo never forgot what happened after that. His mother went into a black despair, and eventually lost her mind, becoming catatonic, living deep within her own mind, and Baloo was sent to the county home. A horrible place of hunger, coldness, no love or affection of any kind, and harsh living conditions of looking out only for yourself, doing whatever was necessary to preserve yourself.   
  
After a few years in that horrible place, Baloo turned sixteen and was released. He went home to find his mother, only to find that she had been committed to a local sanitarium by Baloo's Aunt Sarah. The house was still in the Von Bruinwald name, as was the barn, because, amazingly enough, Dorothy had managed to pay off the mortgage, and if nothing was owed on it, and with Baloo still alive and in control of his mind, nothing could be done about selling or demolishing the property without his permission. That bit of news was the only brightener on that day in February, Baloo's sixteenth birthday. The fact that he still had a place to live, and that he might still have the Sea Duck, a last, vitally real part of his memory of Grady, was a blessing to Baloo. As he walked over to the dilapidated barn, a frenzied terror began to take over his mind, and he almost began to convince himself that the plane would be gone, sold for scrap during the war, or that it had never really existed at all, that by some weird twist of his psyche he had made the entire plane up, that it only existed in his head.   
  
His fears were quickly put to rest when he entered the barn. There was the old plane, a bit dustier, needing a new paint job, a good cleaning, and sure to have been infested by all manner of small creatures, but still there, in all its brightly painted glory. Baloo climbed up into the cockpit, sat down, and for the first time in his life since he was a very, very little cub, put his face in his paws, and cried his heart out.  
  
It was then that he found the note. It had been tucked next to one of gears, and was dated the day his brother had left for the war.   
  
June 7, 1917  
  
Dear Baloo,  
Well, if you are reading this note, I guess I didn't make it home. I hope you and Momma are doing okay. I hope I got enough money sent back to you all to make it possible for you to go back to school, and maybe to git a new house for the two of you. I hope I got lots of letters sent back to you, and that you can remember how much fun we had together in those first flying lessons in the Duck here. You were incredible Baloo! I didn't know it was possible for someone to have that much natural talent, but, boy, you got it! You are going to be a great pilot, I just wish I was there to see you.   
I hope I died with honor, serving my country well. Just remember Baloo, you still have Momma, and I'll always be with you, no matter what.   
You'll never be alone. I love you, and nothing can kill that.   
I love you Lil' Britches.   
  
Your Loving Brother  
Lt. Grady Von Bruinwald   
  
Baloo silently read the note, and was strangely comforted by it's contents. He had felt so alone for those years after Grady's death, but it seemed all right now. Baloo was sure that wherever he was, Grady loved him still, and that was all he really needed. He would never be alone.   
  
Baloo then came out of his reverie, and decided it was probably time to be getting back home to Becky, the kids, and Higher for Hire, in short, everything one old gray bear held dear.   
  
At long last, the Von Bruinwald family was ready to go home. They were only ten minutes from Cape Suzette and Higher for Hire, and Baloo was already fidgeting in his seat next to Rebecca.   
  
"Baloo, sit still! We are not going to get there any faster with you wiggling around like this. You're as bad as Molly!" Rebecca said with some annoyance.  
  
"Sorry Beckers, but I ain't been home in almost a year, I can't hardly wait to see what has happened while I was gone," Baloo replied as he pressed his muzzle to the window, just as Molly had done a few minutes prior.  
  
Molly had been playing in the corner, and Kit had been sitting in the floor with her, reading the newest edition of Flyboy Magazine. When Kit heard his parent's good-natured bantering, he looked up to see what was going on, and immediately caught sight of his big Papa Bear with his nose fogging the window glass just like a little kid, and started laughing uncontrollably.   
  
"Well heck, Lil' Britches, I'm just excited, that's all. Can't a bear have a little joy in his life now and then?," Baloo said to the now hyperventilating Kit, with a look of mock annoyance.   
  
"Yeah, Papa Bear, I know, I know. But you looked like a dog we used to have, he used to do the same thing when it was time for dinner. My father, the big gray dog," and then Kit gave himself over to more gales of laughter, and was soon joined by Molly, who had finally realized what was going on.   
  
"Great, my own kids and they're laughing at me. There just ain't no justice, none at all," Baloo complained with a look at Rebecca for agreement.   
"Aw, not you too, Beckers! Man, maybe I was better off at the front," Baloo said with a smile as he looked at Rebecca, who was trying unsuccessfully to keep a wide grin off her own face at Kit's comment.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, live it up, you all. Woof Woof."  
  
***  
  
"Are you sure you can get down Baloo, I don't want you to hurt yourself. Be Careful!"  
  
"I'm fine Becky, I'm not dyin' ya know! You just get yourself in, and I'll be comin along behind ya," Baloo said as he was making his way out of the little commuter plane, and onto the dock.   
  
Kit was standing behind him, still in the plane, and trying to not get in the way, yet still help an unwilling Baloo, without Baloo's knowing it.   
'If he wasn't so dang, well, male, then this sure would be easier. At least he's home,' Kit thought to himself with a smile.   
  
Eventually, Baloo made it out of the plane, and onto the dock. Rebecca turned just as she arrived at he door to Higher for Hire to watch Baloo as he took his first steps back on his homeland, and at the building which had been his home for years previously.   
His left arm was still in a sling due to his broken wrist, and his left leg was in a large brace, a cast having been impossible due to the gunshot wound.   
  
"Mrs. Von Bruinwald? Dr. Prince would like to have a word with you. If you would come this way please?"  
  
"Oh, alright, is everything all right? I was told I could leave with my husband tomorrow, is that still going to be possible?"  
  
"I don't know ma'am. I wasn't told what Dr. Prince wanted to tell you.  
Ahh, here we are, I trust you can find your way back?"  
  
"Yes, yes I think so." 'I wonder what's going on? Just as we thought everything was going back to normal, am I going to have the face some horrible possibility after all?' Rebecca thought to herself as she knocked on the door to what she presumed was Dr. Prince's office.   
  
"Hello ma'am. I'm Dr. Prince, and I have been the attending surgeon to your husband since he arrived here. Unfortunately, I was not the doctor who originally cared for your husband. After he was found, several miles from his plane, and in his current condition, he was taken to one of the closer army hospitals, where he was patched up as much as possible, his condition made stable, and then he was transported here. That is when I came to be in charge of his case. How much do you know of what happened to the Captain?"  
  
"Well, he hasn't wanted to talk about it much, and I haven't pressed him, I thought it would be best to wait until he is a little more recovered before I started trying to learn the truth of what really happened.   
I know he was shot down, and that apparently he was found by some enemy soldiers, and was shot in the leg, and was then found and brought here, or as you told me just now, brought to a closer hospital, and then transferred here."  
  
"All right. We really don't know what happened either, but he has been having severe nightmares, one of the younger nurses has reported several nights in which he moaned, talked to himself, and generally seemed to be terrified of some imaginary assailant. She has told me that he is fine when he goes to sleep, and after several hours, usually just before dawn, he starts into his writhing, then muttering, and usually ends up yelling loudly, before he finally calms and returns to a normal sleep pattern. This is not unusual for men who have been through war, and especially not unusual in those who have been wounded, or have watched as someone they cared for has been killed or wounded. The nightmares should stop, or at least decrease in frequency in a few months. If they do not, you may need to seek counseling. I just wanted to warn you, so that you would not be surprised when you get him home.   
Another concern we have is healthcare for him when he leaves the hospital. Many times, we recommend that a nurse be hired for the duration of the recovery after the patient leaves here, but I think you are a strong enough individual to take care of him yourself. And, I also think he would respond better to you. Because of this, I need to tell you what is going to have to be done with him on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis.   
Before you leave tomorrow, we are going to remove the stitches from his head, and there may be a little bruising, that will fade, and is really nothing to worry about.   
His left wrist was broken in two places, presumably during the crash, and the cast will need to be removed in another month. Just go to your family doctor in Cape Suzette, and they can take care of that part for you.   
The only portion of his injuries you are going to have to look after daily is his gunshot wound. This is where the Captain's case begins to differ from what we usually see in these matters. When your husband was brought in here, he had rope burns around his wrists, and someone, and we do not believe it was your husband, had taken one of the ropes and tied it around his leg, to control the bleeding. Our guess in this matter is that he was found, tied to the tree against which he was later found by our soldiers, shot at close range, and was then untied, a tourniquet applied, and left to die slowly. The strangest part yet is that we also found a compass and map, written in German, but with a red line drawn between the clearing, and the nearest Allied base. As you can see, this is not normal procedure for killing an enemy, even for the Knotzies. This took someone who was a cold-blooded killer, but not one who would seem to be entirely sane. He seemed to have decided that killing is a game, and he left your husband to find his way back to base, wounded, and probably not going to last that long. This may in part explain the severity of your husband's nightmares.   
  
"Oh my gosh! Oh, that is horrible, poor Baloo. How could anyone do that? What sort of monstrous creature plays games with another person's life like that? Who, or, or, What is this person?"  
  
"We do not know. Unfortunately, we have found a few of our men in similar situations as the Captain, but they weren't as lucky as Baloo. I felt you had the right to know, and that maybe this knowledge might help you to aid your husband with any psychological damage he may have incurred."   
  
"Thank-you, I suppose. Do you think he may be affected by this, well, I'm sure he will be affected, but do you have any idea how severely?"  
  
"Well, we really can't tell, everyone responds to trauma differently. We have a wonderful army psychologist here, Dr. Freeman, and I took the liberty of having him do a write up on your husband. Overall, he found that the Captain seems to doing all right, and that no severe or lasting imprint has been made. He believes that the nightmares are how Baloo is dealing with his fear, and that eventually they should pass. He believes that overall Baloo is a very strong willed individual, and has a very accepting, and forgiving nature, all traits which will help him to overcome what he had been through, especially with the help of his family.   
But, that is not really why I started down this particular path. I need to tell you how to treat your husband, and what danger signs to look for to let you know to get him to proper medical care immediately.   
Because of the close proximity of the gunshot, Baloo's kneecap was shattered. We had no hope of reconstructing it. What we did, was to insert a new, synthetic knee cap, and reattach the appropriate ligaments to hold it in place. This is far from routine, and will probably have to be replaced in a few years when the technology is better, but for now, it is the best we can do. Fortunately, the bullet went through fairly cleanly, and besides his knee, and the ligaments directly around it, his leg was not to badly wounded.   
His dressing must be changed once a day, and the wound cleaned with iodine, and packed with sulfonamide powder and gauze. Then, rewrap his leg with gauze to hold the packing in place.   
The main difficulty is in keeping his leg straight and still enough to allow the injury to his ligaments and bone to heal sufficiently. Normally, a cast would be used, but the open wound will not allow for that. So, what we have done is devised a sort of splint that can be taken on and off as necessary. One of the nurses will show you how it is done. Once he leaves here with you, I am willing to let him walk around some on his own. I think that at that point the bone will have knitted together enough to be stable, and that some movement may actually be beneficial, in as that it will increase blood circulation. He isn't going to like it, but he must use a cane whenever he is standing or walking, and he musn't be allowed to do either for more than a few minutes. I don't know how long he will need to use the cane, possibly for the rest of his life. Your family physician will need to be the one to make that decision.   
I think that is everything you will need to do for him when he arrives home. I am going to copy all of his records from here and send them to Cape Suzette Memorial Hospital, so that if you have any questions later you can contact them for assistance. Is that the hospital I should send to?"  
  
"Uh, yes I suppose so. I think Baloo's doctor is located within that group. I'm so frazzled right now I can't remember. I knew he was going to take a lot of care when we got home, but I hadn't imagined it was going to be this involved, even without the psychological trauma you were telling me about. I guess I just thought we would get home and everything would be okay again, sort of like as though nothing had happened. Silly, I know, but still.   
Oh, one thing more though, he will be able to fly again, won't he? I don't think he could live without it," Rebecca asked, a terrifying realization suddenly running through her body, making her knees weak, and her head light.   
  
"Oh no, ma'am. Don't worry, it sounds like a lot, but you will be fine, and in a few months your life will be back to normal. Just remember, you are one of the lucky ones.   
About flying, I don't think I'd let him get up into a cockpit the day he gets home, but as soon as he leg has healed, and his cast is off his arm, I don't see why he couldn't take a short test flight to see if he still feels comfortable in a plane. I would definatly recommend another pilot be in attendance, along with someone to help the Captain if he finds that he isn't quite as daring as he once was, but I don't see any physical reason he wouldn't be able to fly again. I wish you luck. Everything will be all right Mrs.Von Bruinwald. You'll see."  
  
With that last thought, a still reeling Rebecca left the Doctor's office, and went back to her waiting husband who had been watching Kit and Molly play tail-gunner when she had been called away.   
  
Rebecca watched as Kit jumped down from the cockpit, and landed lightly beside Baloo, who was slowly walking down the pier. When he caught sight of the Sea Duck, Baloo stopped, leaning heavily on his cane, and simply stared at the big yellow plane.   
  
"I thought I might never see her again, but there she is. I just wish that another owner of that Duck was still here to see her too."  
  
"What Papa Bear? Where you talking to me?"  
  
"Oh no, Lil' Britches. I was just thinking about somebody I used to know. He left one day and never came home again. So sad," Baloo replied, still looking at the plane, but not seeing it in it's current position on the bay, he was seeing the same plane, in the same place, but at a time far removed from the present.   
  
"Uh, okay Papa Bear, well, uh, let's get on into the office. I think Rebecca's waitin' for us."  
  
"Hmm? Oh, Beckers, right, sorry about that Lil' Britches. Did I ever tell you and Molly about my brother Grady, and how I came to first own the Sea Duck?"  
  
***  
  
After the necessary phone calls had been made to announce the re-opening of Higher for Hire, and the safe return of Baloo, Rebecca, Baloo, Molly, and Kit had closed up for the night, and gone back to the apartment.   
The entire family had been seated in the living room, talking about everything that had happened while Baloo had been gone. They were talking and bantering back and forth, but more than that, they were simply enjoying being near each other, being the family they may have forever lost if circumstances had been slightly less in their favor.   
  
Kit was animatedly telling a story about his recent baseball tryouts from where he was seated cross-legged in the floor.   
  
"And this guy, who always assumes he is going to make the team, no matter what, gets cut, and then I figure there's no way I'm going to make it, but I didn't get cut, and since then I've been doin really well. Coach keeps telling me that we are probably going to get to go to the playoffs this year!"   
  
"That's great Kit boy! I always was a baseball man myself. Back when I was still in basic, me and a few of the other guys got a sorta makeshift team together so that we could play when they weren't drillin us or making us run. Oh boy, those runs were the worst. Made me appreciate you being on the track team a whole lot more, let me tell ya, Lil' Britches," Baloo responded with a playful tug at Kit's baseball cap.  
  
At that point, Molly, who had been seated on Rebecca's lap in one of the arm chairs piped up: "I sure am glad you came home Baloo. I sure was going to miss you." With that, Molly climbed down off of the chair, and went to sit in Baloo's lap, carefully climbing up to avoid causing Baloo any pain.   
  
Baloo just looked down at the little yellow bear cub, and was suddenly filled with a sense of wonder at his own good fortune.   
  
"I don't know if I ever told you this Beckers, but you, Kit and Molly were the best things that ever happened to this ol' bear. I don't know where I'd be at this stage of the game without you all."  
  
"Probably at Louie's!" yelled Kit, inciting a laughter from everyone.   
  
"Yeah, you're probably right Lil' Britches." Baloo said with a smile.   
"I sure am glad you guys came along though. I never thought I'd ever be anybody's husband, much less somebody's Dad. Man, would my father be surprised to see me today, not to mention my Mom! I think they both figgered I'd be a bachelor slob my whole life."  
  
"Well, I'm sorry Baloo, but you may not be a bachelor anymore, but I don't think I would say that you are the King of Cleanliness quite yet. Just wait though, I'm working on you!" Rebecca said with a wink.   
  
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that. A guy's gotta have his stuff, it makes him who he is!"  
  
"Oh, so you are made of dirty socks and half eaten sandwiches? I'd say your parent' s would definatly be surprised," Becky shot back with a grin.  
  
"Okay, okay, you win. Beckers one, Baloo zip."  
  
"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you all that mean the world to me, and I hope nothing ever takes you all away from me, ever."  
Kit smiled up at Baloo, a look of purest joy expressed on his small face. He was finally home.   
  
Rebecca couldn't help but look down at her lap, afraid that if she looked at Baloo and Molly at that moment, she would start to cry, and all the emotions of pain, fear, shock, and finally sweet relief she had been so carefully holding back would suddenly come surging forth in a great tidal wave of tears.   
Molly, not entirely certain of what had just happened, but understanding that something important had just been said, looped her small arms around Baloo's neck and kissed him soundly on the cheek.   
  
A few minutes later, Rebecca declared that it was time Molly got off to bed.   
  
"Okay Momma, but I want Baloo to tuck me in tonight. But don't worry Mommy, I still love you too, and tomorrow you can tuck me in again."  
  
Looking at her small daughter, seeing the earnestness of her feelings, and not being able to help but smile at her childhood fears of hurting her mother's feelings, just smiled and said okay.   
  
"But, you have to give me a goodnight kiss before you go, and make sure that you have a handkerchief under your pillow."  
  
"Okay, Mommy. Come on Baloo, Millie and Cara have something important they need to tell you," Molly said as she slipped off the couch, and tugged on Baloo's hand.   
  
"I'm a comin, I'm a comin. Hold your horses there cupcake, I'm a decrepit ol' bear now," Baloo replied with a grim as he slowly hauled himself out of the couch, and began the surprisingly difficult journey to his daughter's bedroom.   
  
In the bedroom, Molly had changed into her pajamas, and crawled into bed. Baloo just watched from the doorway, a wide grin across his face.   
'She's so little, and yet so perfect. And so much like her mother!' Baloo thought to himself.   
  
"Come on Baloo, come sit on my bed and tell me a story. Momma always tells me a story before I go to bed, even when she's really busy."  
  
Baloo walked over and sat down on the small pink bed, waiting for Molly to pull out "Gladys and the Gorilla", her all-time favorite storybook.   
  
"Okay, Punkin, where's the story? I can't read it to you if you don't give it to me."  
  
"No, no, no, I don't want you to read me a story, I want you to tell me a story. I bet you have lots of stories you could tell me, just like Wildcat. He's really good at stories."  
  
"Oh, uh, well, gosh Molly, uh, ummm, I don't think I know any stories that you would like to hear. Uh, are you sure you don't want me to read one to ya? Maybe that ol' gorilla story? Or maybe the one about the bunny and the rocking horse with no tail or something?" a worried Baloo said, all the while Molly kept looking up at him with her near patented pitiful face.   
'I don't know where they learn it, but man do they learn it young! She knows how to wrap this ol' bear around her fingers before I even know she's doin it!'  
  
"Okay, if you're sure you can't tell me a story, then I guess I'll just have to tell Cara and Millie. They are going to be so dis-dis-appointed. They were really looking forward to you coming home and telling them a story. I guess they'll just have to be sad though," Molly replied, even as she looked up at Baloo, her eyes getting even wider, and the pitiful look threatening to turn into tears.   
  
"Oh, now, Cupcake, don't take it that way. Ol' Papa Bear was just tryin to think of a story, just give me a second, and I'll come up with something," Baloo replied, becoming more nervous and agitated by the second.  
'This is worse than getting into a losin dog fight! What am I going to tell her about?!'   
'Wait a minute, what was that old poem my Momma used to tell me? It's been years, but maybe I can remember it. I've got to do something, that's for sure.'  
  
"Momma, I'm not sleepy yet, tell me a story."  
  
"Alright, Baloo. The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea . . ."  
  
"I know one, Muffin. This is a story my Momma used to tell me when I was littler n' you. It's called the Owl and the Pussycat.  
  
The owl and the pussycat went to sea  
In a beautiful pea green boat,  
They took some honey, and plenty of money,  
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.  
  
"How can a note weigh five pounds Baloo?"  
  
"I really don't know Muffin. That's just how the story goes."  
  
"Okay."  
  
The owl looked up to the stars above,  
And sang to a small guitar,  
  
"Why was he singing to a guitar?"  
  
"Maybe he was like Wildcat, and thought the guitar had feelings."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,  
What a beautiful Pussy you are,  
You are,  
You are!  
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"  
  
Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!  
How charmingly sweet you sing!  
O let us be married! Too long we have tarried:  
But what shall we do for a ring?"  
They sailed away for a year and a day,  
  
"I bet the Owl's boss got mad at him for being late!"  
  
"I think the Pussy is his boss, so she was with him. She probably told him where to go, and how to do it."  
  
"Yes, that makes sense. If Mommy was with you when you were late, maybe she wouldn't yell so much."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
To the land where the Bong-tree grows;  
  
"What's a Bong-tree?"  
  
"I think it's a tree that grows bongos, you know like Louie has at the club?"  
  
"I think we should ask Louie where he got them. I would like to see a Bong-tree."  
  
And there in the wood a Piggy-wig stood,  
  
"Is that anything like that icky Covington's pretend hair?"  
  
"I don't know Molly, let's try to finish the story, and maybe we'll find out."  
  
With a ring at the end of his nose,  
His nose,   
His nose,  
With a ring at the end of his nose.  
  
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling   
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."  
So they took it away, and were married next day  
By the turkey who lives on the hill.  
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,  
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;  
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,  
They danced by the light of the moon,  
The moon,   
The moon,  
They danced by the light of the moon.  
  
Baloo finished the poem, surprising himself that he remembered it at all, much less completely.   
  
He looked down at Molly, only to realize she had fallen asleep, her small head resting lightly on the pillow. Carefully, so as not to disturb the sleeping child, Baloo eased himself up from the bed, and pulled the blanket up over her arms, tucking it snugly next to her chin.   
Baloo spent the next several minutes just watching her sleep and breathe, and finally bent to kiss her softly on the forehead. Then he turned to leave, switching off the overhead light, looking back at the sleeping cub, whose small face was now illuminated only from the soft glow of the bedside lamp. At that moment, she stirred ever so slightly and opened her eyes.   
  
"Baloo, remember when I told you Cara and Millie needed to tell you something?"  
  
"Yes, cupcake?"  
  
"Well, actually I wanted to ask you something. Can, can I call you Daddy?"  
  
Baloo's eyes filled with tears, and he was afraid to respond for fear of scaring Molly with his vehemence. After a moment, he responded:  
  
"Yeah, Molly, I would really like it if you would call me Daddy. That would be really nice."  
  
"Okay, I love you, Daddy."  
  
"I love you too, sweetheart." 


End file.
